


Lonely hurts Club

by Justagirl20



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, I don't even know how to work this out, It is an arya centric fic, The other starklings get mentioned too, There is literally no plot here, accidents and deaths, and the author just tried to give you feels but it came off as pretentious, but it is in the past, how to add tags!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justagirl20/pseuds/Justagirl20
Summary: It is not like she can't talk to them; she definitely can but in the end she supposes it boils down to one question:Are you mine?
Relationships: Jon Snow/Arya Stark
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Lonely hurts Club

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I really don't know what I am doing. It has been years since I wrote anything. I don't know what else to say except to request to be patient with me. Reviews are appreciated.

It is a bit odd, she supposes. It is a bit odd to feel so lonely even when surrounded by so many. To have over 50 contacts on your contact list and yet to stutter to a pause before typing out anything meaningful to send to one.

Like there is no doubt that each one of her friends would probably rush to her apartment and break down her door if she were to send an: SOS DYING OF PEANUT ALLERGY ;) ;)

(Would probably kidnap a whole bunch of medical employees before barging into her apartment which is hilariously sweet of them.) 

But still...

But still calling Hot Pie or Lommy or Gendry or Shireen or Wylla right now or texting them a tentative "Hi" when she doesn't even know what to say next or how to say it spikes a churning anxiety in her gut and Arya Stark doesn't think she needs a churning stomach right now, thank you very much.

It is not like she can't talk to them; she definitely can but in the end she supposes it boils down to one question: 

Are you mine? 

She doesn't have the courage to ask them that. Doesn't have the courage to look at their faces as they grapple with the magnitude of what she is asking of them. She doesn't think it is fair to ask them this. 

Arya doesn't know if this is something terribly romantic to ask someone. She never thought herself to be one for romance. In fact she still remembers how she used to scrunch her nose at the various love songs Sansa used to sing as a teenager( Sansa still croons to herself when she thinks no one is watching. It is timid and hopeful and honestly it's one of the most beautiful things in the world.).

So no Arya doesn't think she is a romantic And yet...

And yet she wonders how would it be to have a Captain Haddock to her Tintin. Maybe she can be the Watson to someone's Sherlock. Or Juliet to someone's Romeo. 

She snorts at the last one because she knows how it sounds. And yet she doesn't have the words to make one understand that she doesn't crave a whirlwind of an affair where one cannot live without the other. No...it is not that. She just likes how you can never talk of Romeo without thinking of Juliet or how you fail when you try to pronounce Juliet without Romeo.

She supposes in that way she is a little bit of a romantic after all.

A loud crash in the kitchen cuts through her reverie.  
Arya sighs and gets up from the couch she has been lying on since this morning ( the crick on her back is very much happy to let her know how it doesn't appreciate it at all). 

Arya supposes she really should spend more time on earth than in her head. It gets a bit difficult though and she blinks rapidly at that thought. 

Her apartment is not much. At least not much in terms of what one would expect for the youngest Stark girl, who like the other Stark children was born with a silver spoon stuck in her mouth. It is rickety and mouldy and she is pretty sure that there is a rat infestation but she is very proud of it (doing odd jobs to make a downpayment was worth it). 

It isn't perfect but it is hers.

Hers...

Arya chews her lips while mulling this over in her head. She pokes her head in the kitchen and is greeted with a sight of a torn packet of dogfood, an assortment of jars rolling around on the floor and a very happy husky munching away at her snacks in the midst of them. 

Arya lets out a sound which is equal parts exasperated and incredulous

"How did you even get it down you silly dog?!" 

A self satisfied whoof greeted her back and Arya huffs out a laugh. She goes to Nymeria (yes, yes she knows, naming her dog after the witch princess of ancient times is nerdy af) and scratches her behind the ears. She guides Nym away from the mess on the kitchen floor, already thanking the old gods that she doesn't have classes today and therefore can afford to clean up the mess and prepare a small lunch for herself before she has to start getting ready for her fencing practice. 

("No Syrio I don't need a day off. How am I going to compete in the nationals if I don't practice? No Syrio, it is okay. I am fine") 

She studiously ignores her phone lying on the kitchen counter top while she goes to fetch a broom. She knows that Sansa would have already bombarded her with texts after text, all of it which ultimately boils down to  
"Are you all right?" 

It is sweet really and honestly that is saying something because 11 year old Arya would consider Sansa anything but sweet. They never really had a smooth relationship to begin with. Add to that years of bullying and you at 21 years of age have this awkward relationship with your sister where you don't really know what to do with one another. 

( it has improved tremendously over the years and they are mature now and have talked about the issues and it is good to have someone after...aft-...After everything that has happened.)

Arya takes a deep breathe. Just like she was told to do if she ever feels herself spiraling out of control. 

She goes on cleaning up the mess in the kitchen only stopping to make kissy noises at Nymeria who whines at seeing her favorite snacks being put away again. Her phone vibrates again and she stops to chew her lip. She knows that she is going to have texts from Bran too (who likes to think he is more subtle than Sansa but is absolutely not) and Robb probably has filled her phone memory with pics of baby Leia like the proud dad he is( "you are so cliche for a star wars fan Robb" "shut up arya"). 

Arya chuckles at the memory while she finishes dumping the broken bottles in the trashcan. She crosses on to where Nymeria sits and buries her face in the soft furry neck and inhales deeply. 

"At least you are mine, aren't you?" 

An answering whoof and cold tongue licking the exposed part of her face makes her chuckle. She knows that she can ask this question to her siblings and would get the answer "Yes! yes of course!!" and it won't be a lie, no not really. And yet...and yet...

Arya's ruminations were cut short by a sharp knock at the front door. And it stills her for a moment. She looks up from Nymeria and purses her lips. She really doesn't want to see anyone right now. Not today. God, not today. 

She is even more surprised when Nym whoofs excitedly at the door. It makes Arya even more anxious. Oh god did Sansa drop in for a visit just because Arya wasn't answering her calls? She wouldn't put it past her.

Tamping down her irritation, Arya goes to open the door. Like ripping off a bandage right? She yanks open the door prepared to give Sansa a piece of her mind and has her breathed knocked out of her. Staring back at her are a pair of eyes which is so painfully similar to her own 

"Jon..."


End file.
